Page 73

NYLAH

It’s early Monday morning, and I’m snuggled up in bed. Peeking my eyes open, I peer across the room at the lump in Jolie’s bed. Her hair is splayed across her pillow, and I can hear her softly snoring. She’s a deep sleeper, so if I get up, I doubt I’ll disturb her.

The problem is… I don’t want to get up.

It’s a cold, wintery morning. There was a light snowfall last night, so it’ll be pretty out, but it’ll be cold and I’m warm and?—

A gentle knock at the door has my eyes pinging wide open.

With a frown, I wait to see if I was just imagining it, but there it goes again.

Jolie hasn’t even stirred, so I reluctantly push the covers back and slip out of bed.

The floor is freezing as I tiptoe across it and slowly unlock the door to peek into the hallway… and an instant smile spreads across my face.

“Hey, caveman.”

“Hey, kitty cat.” His voice has that early-morning huskiness to it, and my insides sizzle.

“You here to keep me warm?” I whisper. “I swear, I should have just stayed at your place last night. I don’t like sleeping without you.”

His lips twitch and he leans forward, pecking my lips before I open the door a little wider so he can come in.

“Actually, I came to pick you up.”

“What do you mean?” I grab his wrist to check the time on his watch and suddenly remember. “Aren’t you supposed to be training with my dad in like ten minutes?”

“He liked my idea better.”

My eyebrow arches. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“I want to take you out for a little adventure. You up for it?”

A thrill races through me as my mind conjures up a bunch of different scenarios. “Sure.”

“Sweet, I’ll let you get dressed.”

“What should I be wearing?”

He points down to his sweats and sneakers. “Running clothes.”

“What?”

“We’re going for a run.”

I shake my head and point to my leg. “What?”

“You can do it.”

“Uh… no. I haven’t been running since my accident. I can’t… I can’t run with you.”

“You’re not. I’m running with you. At your pace.”

I bite my lip and back away from him, but he grabs my hip before I can move too far. Coaxing me forward, he wraps his arm around my waist and cinches me against him. “Come on, kitten. We need to start training. We’ve got a Boston Marathon to run.”

A soft laugh punches out of me as my lofty dream meets reality. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I do.” He nods.

“Carson—”

“Hey.” He cups my face, forcing me to look him in the eye.

“You told me never to treat you like a victim or a survivor. You want me to treat you like anybody else. Well, I happen to know that my girlfriend wants to run in the Boston Marathon, and that’s not gonna happen unless she starts training. So let’s go.”

My lips part and he takes advantage, kissing me deep and hard before pulling back and lightly slapping my ass.

“Get dressed.” His wink and little smirk kind of melt me, and I shuffle to my closet, pulling on my clothes and fighting serious doubts that are raging through my system.

I can’t run.

Why did I think I’d be able to?

Taking the scarf off my head, I arrange my hair into a ponytail and shove on my beanie before tying my shoelaces.

“Don’t worry. He strikes me as the kind of guy who will catch you if you fall,” Jolie mumbles, still sounding half asleep.

I glance at her, and she gives me a small smile before rolling over in bed.

“Have fun, kitty cat.”

I snort and rise to my feet. “If you start calling me that, I’ll have to fong you.”

“And in turn, I will eviscerate you in fiction.” Jolie giggles.

She really did love A Knight’s Tale when I made her watch it with me.

I think she was more enamored with the romantic bits, whereas my favorite part of the movie is all the side characters.

Paul Bettany makes that movie for me. And so does Alan Tudyk.

Leaning down, I kiss her cheek before creeping out of the room.

Carson’s waiting for me with a sweet smile on his face, his eyes dancing as he takes my hand. “You didn’t tell me you were into fonging.”

I laugh. “Watch it, or I might just fong you too.”

He wiggles his eyebrows, which only makes me laugh harder.

Stepping into the elevator, I take it slow, trying not to jar my knee before forcing it to run. This is seriously going to be the slowest plod ever.

“Are you sure about this?” I double-check when we step outside.

I was right about the snowfall and how picturesque it looks. The ground is sprinkled in white powder and highlighted by the glow of the streetlights. The sun is already starting to rise, and I should be stoked to be out in this still beauty, but?—

“I say we try for half a mile.”

“That’s it?”

“We’ve got to start someplace, right?” He points down the road. “So let’s go for a quarter mile down that way, turn around, and come back.” Turning to face me, he brushes his knuckle down my cheek. “Think you can handle it?”

I pull in a breath and try to dredge up the strong determination I usually fuel myself with. Where the hell has it gone this morning? Why am I finding this so intimidating?

“Unless you think you seriously can’t do it.” Carson stares down the road, tutting and shaking his head. “I mean, it is a whole half mile. Might be a bit much for you.”

“Oh shut up.” I slap his chest with the back of my hand and start a slow, awkward shuffle down the street.

Carson runs beside me, but he’d probably be just as fast walking.

Honestly, this is embarrassing.

“You’re doing great, kitten. Just keep going.” Moving in front of me, he spins around and jogs backward, smirking at me. “You know, if you work up a sweat, I might just be willing to soap you down in the shower. You know, get you all clean for your first class.”

I raise my eyes at him, ignoring the twinge in my leg and picking up my pace. “You might just be willing?”

“Well, you know… willing… begging… They’re the same thing, right?”

With a soft snort, I shake my head and chase after him when he picks up his pace a little more.

At the quarter-mile mark, I’m actually feeling pretty good. I nearly suggest we go farther, but after we turn around and start heading back, my leg really starts to complain. I grit my teeth and keep going but am super grateful when the dorm comes back into view.

Having not exercised like this in a really long time, I’m puffing like a dinosaur when we dribble to a stop outside Buckley Hall.

“Good job, kitten.” Carson rubs my back, not even out of breath.

I nod, sucking in air like my life depends on it.

Checking his watch, he lets me know that we ran “Exactly half a mile. Boston’s gonna be a breeze.”

I laugh and shake my head, rubbing my leg with a wince. “I can’t even do the math right now on how many more half miles I have to run to complete a marathon.”

“You’ll get there.” Catching me around the waist, he lifts me off my feet. “And I’ll be beside you every step of the way.”

I smile, then lean forward and kiss him, saying thanks without actually saying it.

He glides his tongue along mine before slowly pulling back and murmuring, “Now, about that shower.”

With a giggle, I nip his bottom lip and am about to suggest we wait until Jolie’s gone down for breakfast when I spot something out of the corner of my eye.

I turn to look, curiosity getting the better of me. “Is that Wily?”

Carson spins, still holding me, and I have to look back over my shoulder.

“Yeah. Who’s he talking to?”

Eyeing up the girl who must only come up to his chest, I fight a grin, watching the way her round face goes beet red as he talks down to her.

“He doesn’t look very happy,” Carson murmurs. “Are his eyebrows actually dipping together?”

“He definitely doesn’t like what she’s saying to him.”

Carson pops me onto the ground, watching his friend with a look of concern. “Do you think he needs help?”

“Let’s just see how this plays out,” I say, stopping him. “It’s not like he’s gonna go all Hulk and start hitting her or anything, right?”

“I wanna know who she is and why she’s upsetting him.”

“Me, too, but just give it a second.” I hold his arm, silently encouraging my boyfriend to stay put.

He gives in with a sigh, crossing his arms and still watching the argument between what looks like David and Goliath.

It’s almost comical watching the muscular giant arguing with a woman who appears to be about my age and nearly half his height.

“She’s definitely not his type. It can’t be a one-night stand gone wrong,” Carson mutters.

“Why is she not his type?” I nudge him with my elbow. “Because she’s curvy?”

“She’s more than curvy.” Carson throws me a look.

“Oh, stop it. She’s voluptuous. And Wily might be into that. Some guys really love a woman who’s shapely.”

Carson scoffs. “Wily gets it on with girls who look like they should be on the cover of Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit Edition . I’m telling you, the guy can have the pick of the bunch, and whoever this girl is that’s making him frown is not the type he would have taken to bed last night.”

“Well, they obviously know each other.”

“Yeah, but from where?”

“I don’t know, but—” I gasp, quickly spinning when Wily’s eyes start to track toward us.

Carson turns, too, trying to look like we weren’t just spying on him.

He doesn’t seem to notice us, obviously too riled by whatever the girl is saying. With a flick of his arm, he barks out one last thing I can’t hear and turns on his heel, storming away.

The girl’s shoulders slump, her red face fading to a pretty pink. She looks upset and—oh my gosh, she’s crying.

Shaking her head, she swipes a tear off her cheek and clutches the books she’s carrying against her chest. Holding them like a teddy bear, like they’re giving her comfort, she turns toward Buckley Hall and starts walking straight toward us.

I stiffen, hoping she won’t notice that we’ve just been gawking at her.

But she keeps her eyes on the ground, walking right past us and swiping her key card.

Oh wow. I didn’t even know she lived in my building.

Carson watches her disappear inside, then turns to me. “Think you can find out who she is?”

“What?” I frown. “I’m not playing spy for you?”

“You’re not doing it for me, you’re doing it for Wily.”

I give him a skeptical frown and poke him lightly in the chest. “Don’t meddle. Whatever it is we just saw, we have to forget it. Wily will come to you guys for help if he needs it.”

Carson lets out a frustrated little grunt.

“I know. I’m curious, too, but we’ll find out eventually, I’m sure. Isn’t Wily a bit of an open book?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “You’re right. I’m sure he’ll be bitching and moaning at the lunch table about this chick who pissed him off.”

“See.” I rise onto my toes and peck Carson on the lips. “And then you can tell me all about it.”

He smirks, wrapping me back in his arms and lifting me off my feet. “Now, about this shower.”

I laugh against his shoulder and swing my legs around. “Carry my tired ass up the stairs like a princess.”

He catches me, hitching me in his arms and walking through the door. His lips twitch as he reaches the stairs, then gives me a little side-eye before murmuring, “You’re my queen, kitten. And I’ll carry you anywhere.”

I smile and kiss his chin. “And I’ll let you.”